June is undoubtedly in transition. Reeling from her divorce, trying to stay sober, and faced with a completely stalled career, she's recently returned to the beautiful Oregon coast where she grew up. She must decide what to do with her late and much-loved grandparents' charming cedar-shingled home, a place haunted by memories of her childhood. June hires Jameson to renovate the old house to sell. He too is unmoored as he struggles to redefine his marriage in the aftermath of tragic loss. Over the course of the summer, their conversations about the house quickly turn to the personal-of secrets hidden in walls and of stories from the past half-told. June and Jameson repel and attract, sensing kinship and shying away from hurt. But what can the future hold as long as the past's grip remains so firm? Brimming with empathy, The Days When Birds Come Back, like the house itself, is a graceful testament to endurance, rebuilding, and the possibilities of coming home
DEBORAH REED is the author of seven novels, most recently Pale Morning Light with Violet Swan, and The Days When Birds Come Back, both published with Mariner, now an imprint of Harper Collins. Her novel, Things We Set On Fire, sold over 100,000 copies in the first six months, and another, Carry Yourself Back To Me, was an Amazon Editors’ Pick of the Year.
She has taught novel writing at the Hellenic American University in Athens, Greece, the UCLA extension program in Los Angeles, and was previously the co-director of the Black Forest Writing Seminars at Albert-Ludwig University in Freiburg, Germany. Until June of 2022, she was the owner of Cloud & Leaf Bookstore in Manzanita, Oregon. She now lives and writes in Berlin. Her forthcoming novel will be announced soon.
I burst out laughing when June asked Jamison to F her harder — because— —in every-other-way—nothing was funny — This was a very slow moving moody story— with heavy hitter themes: abuse, alcoholism, murder, divorce…. loss…. weeping ….. marriage separation- where making applesauce was the highlighting excitement. tragedy mixed with a monotone, monotonous narrative just wasn’t a very inspiring read.
Though the story isn’t similar in nature, this reminded me of Bridges of Madison County (a favorite of mine). The sense of love & loss was so heartfelt. I actually hugged this to my chest when I finished with a deep satisfied sigh.
Thanks to the author & publisher for this early copy:)
The Days When Birds Come Back is a line from a melancholic poem by Emily Dickinson, written in seclusion and dealing with people’s emotions and the changing seasons. It is a fitting title for this bittersweet tale of two people scarred by loss, whose chance meeting prompts them to reflect on the past and initiate the first steps towards healing. Both Jameson and June are beautifully drawn, each carrying a deep sorrow in their hearts that has shaped their lives and made them isolate themselves in their little bubbles of grief, guilt and regret. Thrown together in the picturesque setting of June’s childhood home, a little cottage in rural Oregon, they forge a fragile connection that allows them to slowly confide in each other and find solace in each other as they try to come to terms with the past.
Reed’s writing is beautiful and wistful, creating true-to-life characters and an atmospheric setting that is almost a character in itself, as it plays such an important part in the story. I loved being taken on a journey of discovery of the events that have made June and Jameson the people they have become, and to witness their slow emergence from the quagmire of grief as the seasons change. This is a slow, character driven and reflective story. Anyone who is not a stranger to loss and grief will find elements of June and Jameson’s story resonating with their own lives. An exquisite and beautifully crafted novel that touched me deeply.
Thank you to Netgalley and Houghton Mifflin Harcourt for the free electronic copy of this novel and for giving me the opportunity to provide an honest review.
This is a beautifully written book—exquisite in its sense of place and understanding of the flaws in human nature. Both the title and initial poetry reference refer to Emily Dickinson’s poem “Indian Summer” which speaks of the birds coming back to “take a backward look.” Indeed, this is exactly what the two main characters do to try to understand how they came to places of such sorrow and dysfunction. The author unfolds the novel by moving back and forth in time. As we get to know June and Jameson in the present, their backstories are released bit by bit until the reader is shown the entire picture. This is a tale about how people become broken and how they get through the arduous process of healing. It is one of the most beautifully crafted novels I have read in a long time.
THE DAYS WHEN BIRDS COME BACK burns slowly and brightly, its characters fully formed and fully human, caught at the precise moment when their lives change. Told in chapters that alternate between the two main characters, the book shifts between two intertwined stories of loss. June is reeling after her recent break-up and return home, where she is overcome by childhood memories she’s kept at bay for decades. She hires Jameson to renovate her grandparents’ home, and his own grief is renewed by returning to the small coastal town where his own life fell apart. The book unfolds gracefully, concluding in the spirit of Flannery O’Connor’s assertion that all endings should be both surprising and inevitable. Deborah Reed is a master at writing believable dialogue, including only meaningful details, and slowly pulling the layers of misery away to expose the human soul within. Here, she brings to life the Oregon coast and two characters who might not have much to live for, save the house that brings them together.
Mostly read it to see what the author had to say about living on the Oregon coast. A pleasant read with enough trauma and personal challenges thrown in to keep it clear of dull.
So much of life happens in the gray area between choice and chance. Sometimes, a book comes to us at the perfect moment, striking chords that resonate with our most pressing hopes and fear. This aspect of our shared existence isn’t lost on author Deborah Reed, whose spellbinding novel shows the ways in which life can be an unreadable map, fate and free will forming confused, webbed paths, often leading us to question whether it’s merely an exercise of survival.
The Days When Birds Came Back is the story of two protagonists—June Byrne and Jamison Winters—whose lives have stagnated due to grief and guilt. June has survived childhood trauma and divorce and Jamison has lost his children; each wonders what part he/she played in their separate tragedies. The narrative takes place where these two lives intersect, on the Oregon coast where June has hired Jamison to renovate her grandparents’ bungalow.
There’s so much to say about this immersive, evocative, and multi-layered novel and the way it wraps its arms around you. The pain that defines both characters is palpable, as vivid as the colorful, pulsing setting: the time- and weather-worn homes that hold memories and secrets, the encompassing, unremitting nature outside. This setting steeps both characters in an earlier time and the source of their suffering, forcing them to examine long-buried feelings. I can’t recall a recent time when I anticipated the meeting of two characters as much as I hoped for communion and understanding between June and Jamison. The novel unfolds slowly and has a sort of lulling, meditative quality. There was a constant pull between wanting to savor Reed’s beautiful prose and countless wisdoms, and wanting to press ahead and follow the clues. She shines a warm light on the profoundness of everyday existence, what the late writer Kent Haruf called “the precious ordinary.” As we follow these characters getting through their days as we all do, we learn more about what they’ve lived through as we experience their coming together at the perfect time, in the perfect place. It seems a sort of miracle, like life itself.
So yes, it’s a story about grief and its tentacles, but it’s also about the possibility of being seen and heard in life, and this glimmer of hope blinks from start to finish. All great novels require us to look around and to look within. For me, The Days When Birds Came Back was the right book at the right time, one I’ll appreciate and contemplate for a long time to come.
What happens after everything has happened? This is where Deborah Reed introduces us to June and Jameson, characters who both have a deep, painful connection with the Oregon Coast. They must both, by necessity of survival, push through their individual grief in separate losses that serendipitous bring them together. Reed writes with loving care that brings nature and heartache to life, with an unforgettable eye for detail. THE DAYS WHEN BIRDS COME BACK is a full-hearted, visceral journey that reads as both a homage to the craggy majesty of the Pacific Northwest coast and a mystery of the heart between people who are re-learning how to connect to the world and relationships around them. An engrossing, luminous read for all of us who have had to learn to reassemble our homes, our hearts, and our expectations on who we were meant to be. Fans of Claire Fuller's SWIMMING LESSONS will adore this selection.
I'm a big fan of Deborah Reed's novels and I was lucky enough to read this one early. Two of my favorite things about her work are in evidence here: beautiful language (rich, elegant, musical) and a window into the characters' consciousness and emotions that feels so specific and idiosyncratic and yet uncannily universal. I teach memoir and some of my students were trying to figure out how to give readers an insight into their characters' emotional life in fresh and original ways. Wwhen I looked for an example they could follow, I found the excerpt I'll quote below, from The Days When Birds Come Back. Hear how it sings. Feel how moving it is. Every paragraph in the book is this good.
"June shut out the nighttime shrieks and sobs of the other girls by creating a list of seven comforts that she hid inside herself like sweets she could reach for when no one was looking. All these years later those seven comforts still held up. June could turn to them, even as they embarrassed her, even as she felt eccentric in the privacy of her own mind. Ian was the only living soul she’d ever told about these things, and how good was he, becoming even more enamored with her? Hot sun on her skin was number three. The scent of horse sweat was number five, especially when tracing the air after a good pat of wool mitten against its neck on a chilly afternoon."
Goodreads is full of 5 star reviews for this book and that puzzles me. I give it 3 stars at best. I just couldn't get pulled in to the jumping narrative and never felt a real connection to the characters, or anything. Especially June. I listened to the book and really didn't like the narrator so maybe if I had read it I would have enjoyed it more. I'm curious as to what my friends will think.
In this beautiful novel by Deborah Reed (whose books Carry Yourself Back to Me, Things We Set on Fire, and Olivay are also worth your time), June, an alcoholic fresh on the wagon, analyzes her life with a clear head for maybe the first time in years. Through memories of her philandering father’s suicide, her recently divorced ex-husband, and her troubled youth, we learn a good deal about her and why she loves a pair of bungalows on the Oregon coast. Juxtaposed to June is Jameson, a contractor who, having lost two children in a grocery-store shootout, has grief of his own. These two characters come together in a landscape that means different things at different times to each of them. The fictional town of Nestucca Beach is both a refuge and the place where their lives changed forever. This highly literary story explores the shifting weight coincidence can play in the healing process and how nostalgia can be both a blessing and a curse. June and Jameson wrestle with their memories of love and loss, finding solace in restoring a home. Reed fills these pages with foxglove, euphorbia, and birch, and the textures of the coast come alive is this melancholy novel. Highly recommended for fans of coastal Oregon.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This was a just chance thrift store paperback purchase, but I'm so glad this beautiful little novel found its way to me. I was intrigued by the story because it was set on the Oregon coast, and promised themes of revisiting past trauma while renovating a childhood home. It delivered all that and more - a simple story unfurling into a moving emotional journey.
"I am cracked and broken in more ways than I know how to fix," he said. "I understand," she said...
"I think you've lost somebody too," he said. "I have. But it isn't quite the same." "How so?" he asked. "How do you measure such a thing?"
All I can say is Wow! I cannot believe how the story of two damaged people wrenched my heart out, and kept me turning pages, and yet I really loved the book. The story of June, a woman who is drinking her way through forgetting her past, intersects with that of Jameson, a man facing a tragedy that has turned his life around. I don't want to give anything at all away here, but to say that this beautifully written book will tug at the heartstrings, while challenging your mind. Highly recommend and hope it is widely read.
I found this book very hard to get into, at first. There was just way to much thrown at the read (details, etc.) in the first few chapters. And, to be honest, I was ready to close up and call it quits.
That said, I'm glad I didn't. As the story unfolded, I found myself anxious to read more and more. Eventually, I couldn't put it down. I found myself being able to relate to the characters, especially June, and I needed to find out what happened to them.
Overall, I was very pleased with both the story and the writing.
A hauntingly deep story of two lives shaped by trauma, guilt and grief. Two damaged and delicate souls brought together when renovating an old house and who help each through their pain. A story that resonates long after you close the book. Full of empathy, it is a reminder of how the events of our past shape our future, and the power we have to recognise our missed chances and wrong turns, and choose what we do with it. Written as beautifully as it's poem title namesake.
This was a slow starter for me but I told myself I'd stick with it until I'd read about 50 pages and I'm so glad I did! The author painted beautiful pictures of Oregon and I found myself lusting after the cottage on the coast! The characters are finely drawn and little clues about their painful pasts are scattered throughout the book like a puzzle. In the end, all the pieces fit together and it's a beautiful story of redemption.
I took my time with this one. I did not want it to end. The beautiful language, beguiling setting and gorgeous descriptions of nature kept me hopeful even as the characters faced unspeakable horrors. I was intrigued by the way the characters return to a place that holds so many painful memories and find redemption. This is a novel that cleverly holds back all the details and reveals them bit by bit as the characters work their way towards a better understanding of forgiveness. The melancholy and hopefulness are rich and touching. The captivating title and cover illustration made a promise that the story kept.
A story about 2 people unknown to each other & both dealing with tragedy, loss, & deep sadness. There is a connection between the 2 of them, they just don't know it yet.
June is a writer, is back on the Oregon coast in her childhood home, located on the same property as her grandparent's home. She returns home from a long stint in Ireland after some life changes & to fix up her grandparent's home.
June hires Jameson, a man with his own sadness & demons & while working on June's property they come to know each other as each of their own & their connected stories come together.
The writing was incredibly beautiful, especially dealing with several sad & sensitive issues.
Some books end and you’re left wanting more. That’s the bittersweet feeling that readers often claim are at the heart of their love for stories. But, The Days When Birds Come Back will not leave readers feeling empty in any way. Deborah Reed’s writing doesn’t leave readers with that indescribable emptiness, instead she leaves them feeling like her characters, complete.
Readers will likely fall in love with different aspects of the stories of June and Jameson. From their personal meditations to the interactions between the and the view of the coast that links them both, as Reed writes, “We find what we want to find in others’ stories, just as we find what we want to find in our own.”
What I wanted to find in The Days When Birds Come Back was honesty, desire, an exploration of past, pain, and self all paired with the senses of the northwestern coast. And, you know what? That’s exactly what I found.
Trying to stay sober after a divorce, June returns to the Oregon coast where she grew up in order to renovate her late grandparents' home prior to putting it up for sale. She hires Jameson, who comes highly recommended for his renovation skills, and who is trying to hang on to his marriage as he and his wife cope with a tragic loss. As the two begin to share their stories, their vulnerability and grief begin to heal the pain they have been holding inside. Beautiful.
I've only read a little ways but it's not grabbing me so far. I'm not liking how the writing goes backward and forward in a circular fashion, if that makes any sense. I'm having troubles following where it is going.
A bittersweet tale of two people scarred by terrible tragedy. Their "chance" meeting turns out to not be so much by chance at all. I found this book beautifully written and as someone else commented, it also reminded me too of the writing in The Bridges of Madison County. It was one of those types of stories. It might not be for everyone, but I actually loved it.
When June returns to her family home, her career stalling, her marriage over, her heart already bruised following the untimely deaths of both her parents, it's not surprising she wants to hide away from the world. Seeking solace in burgeoning alcoholism is probably not the best coping mechanism, but that's where June turns to blot out the heartbreak. When she hires a moody, taciturn, but highly-recommended handyman, Jameson, to renovate one of the two houses on the plot to sell, it turns out he's running away from his own demons. When their two damaged souls come together, I think you can guess where this will eventually lead.... While this book is undoubtedly well written, with a broken heart in need of mending at its core, I struggled to get over the fact that it needed to be mended by someone already married with a family. The Bridges of Madison Country-esque slowburn romance and the whole "will they / won't they" always felt a little tainted by the fact that Jameson had a wife back home. I couldn't help but feel he should have got his house in order before embarking on anything else. I'm not usually this morally judgmental, but in the context of the novel, and the tragedies recounted, it just felt as though he was unnecessarily causing more. It's a shame because it really spoiled the book for me.
I lost sleep for two nights in a row because i simply could not tear myself away from this book. If you have ever suffered loss, been plagued by guilt, and craved redemption or relief "The Days When Birds Come Back" will speak directly to you...speak to you in language that is beautifully poetic and deeply felt. Reed unfolds the stories of June and Jameson in a such a deft way, giving us just the right amount of information to make putting the book down near impossible. After awhile I gave up marking passages--just too many.
This is a very interior book. By that I mean that we know the characters primarily from what goes on inside their heads. And, lord, does a lot go on! June and Jameson have had impossibly difficult pasts, with losses and trauma almost too big to comprehend. It takes most of the book to learn their stories. Meanwhile, it's all inside their heads. This sort of book drives me nuts! This wasn't as bad as some, which I've had to abandon, but it was work to get to the point at which there was some story.